Restoring Hope Read online

  Chogan came within hearing distance so the women quietly returned to their tasks. He laid the bedrolls on the grass.

  Julia tried not to think of him. It was hard to serve her penance when he was near. “I’m going to get water. I need some time alone.” She said it loud enough for him to hear so he wouldn’t follow. She didn’t feel like discussing anything with anyone. Without a glance in either her aunt’s or his direction, she took the pot down to the creek.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  After the week of traveling, Woape was glad to be home. Fortunately, caring for her child meant she didn’t have to deal with Citlali or any questions he might have, but she knew as soon as they were back, she’d have to face him.

  She returned to her people with tears and hugs. For some reason, everything looked different. Nothing had changed. The earthen lodges formed the same circle around their village. The same Missouri River flowed nearby. The same rows of corn grew in the sunlight.

  But she wasn’t the same Woape who left. And now she had a child. For her, everything had changed. She’d learned to live in the white man’s world. She spoke their language, had dressed as the white women did, and had a white man’s child. The curious stares from those in her tribe did not go unnoticed. They wondered how she came to be with a child—and a white man’s for that matter.

  Fortunately, her father gave her a reprieve and told everyone she needed to rest. So she slipped into her family’s lodge and went to the animal hide that marked her room. She pushed the door in and the buffalo hoofs attached to the rawhide announced her entrance as it brushed along the dirt floor. She glanced back at the circular dwelling with the fire-pit in the center and sunlight streaming in from the hole in the top of the roof. Somehow, even this didn’t seem familiar to her. How often had she laughed with her family members in this place? Why couldn’t she bring back that feeling of warmth and home?

  Because my home will always be with Gary. Sighing, she stepped into her small room and set the bar into the two small posts that stuck out of the ground to secure the door. There. No one would disturb her. She needed to be alone with her child.

  Thankful that the place was cool despite the hot summer day, she laid down on the furs that covered her bed and kissed Penelope’s forehead. The name ‘Penelope’ fit the child very well, and when she called her child by name, she would remember the kindness of the woman who helped her.

  Her child began to squirm and seek food, so Woape quickly undressed enough so she could breastfeed. She enjoyed the quiet moments with Penelope. It was the only time she experienced a sense of peace, even as she still mourned for Gary.

  But she didn’t belong to Gary anymore. Now she would be Citlali’s wife. It wasn’t something she particularly looked forward to. He wasn’t a bad man. He performed notable deeds of valor that led to great honor among their people. He’d hunted more buffalo than other men his age, and the animal hide she rested on was one of his gifts to her. He would, no doubt, make a good husband. So why did she dread the marriage?

  No. It was time to grow up. She needed to do the right thing instead of focusing on her feelings. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. So she didn’t love him. So he didn’t love her. Maybe, in due time, they would be content with each other.

  ***

  The next day, Woape went out to her family’s garden to check on the crops. She brushed off any bugs she found, mindful of the baby strapped to her back.

  Her fourteen-year-old sister glanced at her from her row of corn. “Are you glad to be back?”

  Woape paused and looked at her. “Yes.” In some ways. Not in others. But she didn’t feel like making the distinction to her.

  Her sister scanned the garden for their aunts and grandmother before she approached her. “Was he mean to you?”

  “Who?” Woape asked.

  “The father of your baby,” she whispered.

  “No, Onawa. He was very kind.”

  “So you really married him?”

  “I asked Achai to let me explain it when I was ready.” She forced aside her irritation with her brother for being a loud mouth. “I need time before I’m ready to talk.”

  “You were always a puzzle no one could figure out.”

  She shrugged and went to another cornstalk. “I like to be alone with my thoughts.”

  She groaned and returned to her row.

  Woape considered calling her sister back, but then she decided she didn’t wish to tell anyone what happened—at least none of the details—until she could think of Gary without crying. The wounds were still too fresh. Finally, she said, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

  Onawa nodded, looking as if she felt better about that.

  Woape couldn’t blame her for being hurt. They’d been close. She’d shared her misgivings about marrying Citlali, and her sister had kept her secrets. But her relationship to her sister had changed, just as everything else had. And she knew it was because she, herself, had changed. Woape was no longer the same person she’d been when she ran away. Short of going back in time and redoing the past, she was stuck with things the way they were—for better or worse.

  As she left her row of corn and headed for the squash, someone called her name. She turned and fought the urge to flee back into the cornstalks.

  Citlali approached, appearing as serious as she remembered him to be.

  At least that was still the same. She took small comfort in that. “You wish to speak to me?” That was a stupid question. Of course he did.

  “I thought we might discuss the wedding. You said your husband is dead, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “You are certain of this?”

  “Of course, I’m certain. I saw Hothlepoya kill him.”

  He nodded. “I had to be sure. Someone came by, not too long ago...” He waved his hand. “That doesn’t matter. We should discuss the marriage.”

  She took a deep breath and waited for him to continue.

  “I see no reason to delay it. We’ve been through the preliminaries. Our families are anxious for the wedding.”

  Yes, they were. After all, they arranged the marriage. But first... “Will you accept my child?” She glanced over her shoulder at a sleeping Penelope before she looked back at him.

  “Yes. We’ll raise her as one of our own.”

  “I want to tell her about her father.”

  He indicated his acceptance.

  She didn’t know what else to say. Her one reason for avoiding the marriage was to protect Penelope. Shifting from one foot to the other, she tried to think of what she might say to ease the tension. Her gaze turned to the crops where her sister glanced her way. She tried to look at him but found that she couldn’t. He must suspect that she didn’t want to marry him and had run off. Or maybe not. She didn’t know what he thought, nor did she care to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.

  “I thought a week from now might be a good time for the wedding,” he finally said.

  She gulped. That soon? A breeze blew a stray strand of her hair into her eyes, so she quickly brushed it away. As she did, she chanced a glance in his direction. She couldn’t read his expression. He didn’t seem to be mad at her. That was good. She had no doubt he’d be nice to her, even if he didn’t love her. He’d make a good son-in-law, which would make her father happy. And he’d be good to Penelope. Few men in her tribe would be willing to raise a white man’s child. “A week will be fine,” she managed to say.

  “I’ll tell the chief,” he replied.

  She nodded and watched as he returned to the lodges. For a moment, she recalled the day she and Gary married. Her lips tingled from the memory of the kiss he gave her before he brought her back to town. No such kiss came from Citlali, and she doubted that it ever would. With a heavy heart, she turned back to the garden to continue her work.

  ***

  Five days later, Julia left the camp after supper so she could wash up in the river. When she finished, she returned to the campfire and
noticed that her aunt wasn’t there.

  “Where did Erin go?” she asked Chogan as she sat across from him.

  “She went to take care of personal business.”

  Nodding, she held her hands out in front of the fire to warm them up. Though it was August, the wind had a chill in it.

  He stood up and went to the buggy.

  She wondered what he was doing but then decided it wasn’t any of her business. Her gaze traveled the length of the prairie, noting the beautiful shades of pinks that stroked the sky. She caught sight of a rabbit hopping along the land and instantly thought of the times she spent with Chogan trying to master the bow and arrow. She hadn’t bothered since she saw her brother again. If they reached the Mandan tribe and if Woape was there and if she apologized to her and Woape forgave her, maybe Gary would too.

  When Chogan returned, he brought a blanket with him and draped it over her shoulders. “You look cold.” He sat close to her.

  “Thank you,” she softly spoke and pulled the blanket tight around her despite the sudden heat rushing through her.

  “You do not want to hunt?”

  He asked her this every evening, and she wondered why he continued to when he already knew she’d say no. She shook her head and stared at the dancing flames in front of her.

  “Why?”

  Shrugging, she mumbled, “I just don’t feel like it.”

  “You did before we saw your brother.”

  She noted that he’d made a concentrated effort at saying all the words neatly in the sentence, and she realized he did that to please her, though why he should bother, she didn’t know.

  “Julia?”

  “I’m tired of it.”

  “That is not true.”

  A different kind of heat rose up from her neck and into her cheeks. “Then you tell me why,” she snapped, giving him a sharp look.

  A slight grin crossed his face. “You have much fire in you.”

  Surprised that he’d say that, she blinked several times and finally turned her attention back to where it had been moments before.

  “You are too hard on yourself.”

  “How would you know?”

  “I can see it...in your eyes. You bear guilt.”

  “Yeah well, my brother has a right to hate me. If you knew what I did, you wouldn’t want to talk to me either.”

  “You might be surprised.”

  She shook her head and closed her eyes. How easy it was for him to say. How easy it was for her aunt to say. But they weren’t there that day when she told those Indians where Woape was—nor did they know the intention in her heart to break up a marriage.

  Growing serious, he said, “We all have things we regret.”

  She glanced at him in interest. “Do we?”

  “I was responsible for the death of my wife.”

  Stunned didn’t even begin to explain how she felt at that announcement. All she could do was stare at him and wait for him to continue.

  Now he was the one who looked away from her. “We grew up together. As a child, she said she was sick. The medicine man never found the reason. So everyone thought she made it up. She and I married. After two years, I got tired of it. I always went to get medicine man. Each time he said she was not sick. I told her I would not go this time. She said she was in great pain. She said she was going to die if I did not get medicine man. I tell her to go to sleep.” He sighed and swallowed. “She would not be quiet so I yelled at her. Then I left to sleep somewhere else. Next morning, she did not come to make breakfast. I go check on her, and she was dead.” He looked over at her and she caught the hint of regret in his eyes. “The worst part is that I told her I wished I had not married her. I told her I wish she would die. Then I could have a good night’s sleep.”

  Julia turned her gaze from him then, unsure of what to say.

  “Many nights I wish I could take back my words. I wish I could go and get the medicine man. Maybe she would have died anyway. But I would have gotten him. I did not like myself. Her family told me I could not have known. They had lost their patience too.”

  “So did you forgive yourself?” she whispered.

  “In time. But it was not easy.”

  She nodded. She could understand that.

  “You can’t change the past.”

  She looked at her hands as she lightly traced the design on the part of the blanket that rested on her lap. “I’m the one who told those Sioux Indians where Woape was.” She gave a hesitant glance in his direction.

  He just sat there and watched her, as if waiting for more.

  Taking a deep breath, she finally decided to get it all out. “I knew they wanted her. They asked about her. I told them where she lived. I didn’t like that she was married to my brother. In fact, I hated it. Ever since our parents died, my brother never paid me much attention, and I sacrificed a lot for him. At least, that’s the way I saw it at the time. I just wanted him to like me. It didn’t seem like he ever did. Our parents expected me to take care of him because he’s seven years younger than me. And I did my part. Only, I tried to make him dependent on me. I see now that I was afraid to let him go.”

  “Why?” he gently pressed.

  “Because I had nothing else in my life to give me meaning. Sure, our aunt took us in, but in a lot of ways, it didn’t feel like he was my brother. I felt as if I stepped in as his mother. I was ten. I was there when the accident happened and the doctor took me in to see her. Our father was already dead. Gary was three, so he was too young to remember. But I saw her and talked to her. Ma told me to take care of Gary. I did the best I could, and as soon as he turned eighteen, he ran off. He didn’t even say he was leaving. He just left a note.”

  She clenched the blanket and sniffed back her tears. “He didn’t say where he was going. He just said that he needed to get out and find out who he was. He didn’t even say he loved me or that he was thankful I did my best to care for him. I hated him after that. And then he returned, out of the blue one day, and he tried to dump a stranger on us. That was Woape. Then I saw that he was treating her better than he ever treated me. It didn’t seem fair. I’d spent my entire life trying to take care of him, and he’d just met her.”

  She let out a low sigh and grew silent for a moment to listen to the crickets. Ever since she was a little girl, she’d sit on the front porch in the evenings, watch the sun go down, and listen to the crickets. And now, more than ever, the sound soothed her swirling emotions. She’d had no such peace after Gary returned home after being gone, but she felt a small part of it returning—probably because someone was actually listening to her instead of telling her what she must feel. And Chogan didn’t push her to continue. Even as she noted him watching her out of the corner of her eye, he kept his patience.

  Finally, she continued, “They married about a week after they arrived. He couldn’t move out fast enough, and I knew it was because he didn’t want to be near me. Woape didn’t like me either, but who can blame her? I searched for reasons to hate her and found them. I even accused her of trying to poison everyone. But it wasn’t poison. As it turns out, it was ground ginger.”

  He chuckled.

  A small smile formed on her lips. “Before I realized that, I slapped her. But she got me good. She shoved my face into a pie.” The memory suddenly seemed funny, though it hadn’t been at the time. She saw his amused expression and laughed. It felt good to laugh.

  “You have fire in you,” he softly said.

  “So does Woape.”

  “Not like you.”

  “Well, you weren’t there that day.”

  “I grew up in same tribe. She has some fire but not like you.”

  She shrugged. “Well, she wanted the ginger because she was expecting. I hated her even more for that because suddenly, my aunt was fawning all over her like a mother hen. And I didn’t have a child on the way who would be a new member of the family. How can a woman compete with that? So, when I saw the Indians, I told them where Woape was. Al
l I could think of was how much I wanted to get rid of her. I thought if she wasn’t in our lives any more, then maybe Gary would finally...” She paused and looked at the ascending moon. “I thought he would love me, or at least need me. It was selfishness on my part.”

  Venturing another glance in his direction, she added, “I didn’t think they’d try to kill him. But I knew they weren’t nice men. It was the way they talked about Woape. One said she was his property. And I didn’t bother warning anyone. I just went about the day as if nothing unusual happened. Then my aunt said Gary was dead and Woape was going back to her tribe with you, and...” She brushed her tears with the blanket. “It was then I realized the extent of what I’d done. All of my life, I’d gone to church and did as I was told. I prided myself on being a good person. But that day, I saw myself for what I really was, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.”

  She put her face in her hands to hide her tears from him. She didn’t like being vulnerable. Bearing her soul was requiring much more of herself than she cared to admit.

  He closed the distance between them and placed a comforting hand on her back.

  The simple action was intended to make her feel better, and in some ways it did, but it also made her cry harder.

  “We all have moments of weakness...where we choose the wrong path.”

  “But Gary won’t forgive me.”

  “Then that is his path. You cannot choose his path. You can only choose yours.”

  He was right, of course. It was logical. “But it hurts.”

  “Yes. A part will always hurt.”

  Wiping her face, she peeked at him from her blanket. “Didn’t you forgive yourself?”

  “I did. Forgiveness does not mean pain goes away completely. It means pain is less and joy is more. All of life is a cycle of joy and pain.”

  She realized what he meant, and he was right. The damage had been done. She’d have to deal with whatever consequences came from her choices. But, at the same time, she could start making the right decisions. The first thing she needed to do was let Gary go. If he never loved her, then she couldn’t make him. As painful as that was, she would do it.